


Tangle

by dragonswithjetpacks



Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [7]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Forgotten Realms
Genre: Angry Kissing, F/M, Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Upon returning to camp, Ferelith finds her possessions have been disturbed. Without a doubt, she accuses Astarion who does not deny he is at fault. What begins as a squabble between the two ends in a fiery confrontation of how Ferelith begins to feel about her vampire companion.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092497
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	1. Tangle

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an argument they had in my head. A heat of the moment kiss before their night of party.  
> Also, to reference the tome in question, you can kind of read it in Campfire Conversations. I wrote that before I knew about the actual necromancy tome in game. Ferelith sort of collects all kinds of books and tomes and spells.

The camp had been entirely quiet. It should have been a typical night with nothing but stars and campfires. But the silence was interrupted by an angry Ferelith, who upon her return had discovered her books had been misplaced. Her bag, neatly tucked away with her bedroll and belongings, had been pulled aside. Her books were out of order. And her necromancy tome had been opened. There was only one person she could accuse of rummaging through her things. And he was not shy about admitting the deed he had committed. Ferelith erupted into anger, storming out of camp in hopes she could calm herself. Astarion was hot on her heels, ready to admit his faults, but without a hint of guilt. She tried to ignore him, but it was no use. And she stopped as she passed through the old building.

"All I've asked is that you keep your grubby little hands to yourself," she shouted.

"It's not all that bad," he defended himself. "You can't blame me for slipping from time to time."

"Slipping? _Slipping?_ Astarion, you can't just 'slip' into someone's belongings."

"I don't see what the big deal is. It's as if I've touched your precious tome."

"They're all my tomes," she pressed her fingers to the side of her temple, feeling the burden building from the stress.

There was a strong drink and an herbal tea coming after this conversation. She was certain.

"And you're being stingy. What if there is something useful in there? You know anything could help me."

"If there was anything I could do to help, I would have said something."

"Would you?" his eyes grew large, as they always did when he mimicked how one would feel if they were actually hurt.

"You should trust me. At least a little," she threw her hands up out of desperation, ready to be done with him and his games.

"I said I would," he shrugged.

Ferelith's brow tightened, the wrinkle of tension forming across the bridge of her nose. The tone suggested he was not taking her seriously. He very rarely did, but this was a different circumstance. He knew those books were important. And he knew by touching them he was violating her privacy. Again. She had been done with his prying. Done with his carelessness. And done with his selfish reasoning.

"You're not even trying!"

"How _dare_ you. I've attempted and all you do is ignore the effort."

"What little effort that is."

"Ungrateful. That's what you are incredibly and undeniably-"

"I'm not ungrateful, I specifically asked-" they shouted over each other, their voices echoing off the old stone walls.

"And stubborn," he stepped forward aggressively. "Without reason, just... stubborn."

"I have enough reason, thank you. It's the only way I can tolerate you."

"Tolerate me? Ferelith, you despise me. Don't fool yourself."

"Despise isn't quite the word."

"How cliche of you," he was baring his fangs, now. "Yes, let's lash out with angry words because we don't know how to label our feelings."

A piercing stab jabbed her straight through the chest, sharper than any arrow she had felt. He was right. Her emotions had remained in a neutral state for so long, she did not know how to describe them. If she wasn't feeling emotions in all their intensity, she didn't feel them at all. Even when she desperately wanted to dislike Astarion, she couldn't. And she knew no word for it.

"Do not insult my intelligence with your mockery."

"Oh, but it's perfectly fine for you to insult mine? Your precious ego can't handle criticism? Let me guess your next tact... you'll wonder why you hadn't placed a bolt in my head, yet. _Please_ , the threats are getting old."

"Maybe I can come up with something new," a flash of red flickered on her fingertips.

Astarion saw it from the corner of his eye, his instinct heightening his reflexes. It was almost one large sweep of his legs and he was over her. But she didn't flinch. The rush, however, caused her to lose concentration, dropping the magical energy she felt. It wasn't the surprise of his action that caught her off guard. No, it was the display in his eyes and the anger she felt looking up to him, causing her to widen her sight. She drank in all the anger he poured into her, filling up her body with a cold chill that drove her desire to defy him. Her shoulders straightened and her chest rose with contempt.

"You're not quick enough," he barked back at her.

It was not enough to knock her down. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to feel the contact of his face on her hand. And as she looked up, her face grew hot. His red eyes beamed down at her in rage. Her jaw clenched and the heat from below came swelling, bubbling up hot into her chest. That stupid face not two moments ago was attempting a sorry expression of pity. And now he was glaring down upon her with his fangs below curling lips. Her hands came up, but he was right. She was not quick enough. He caught them before they could reach their destination. She balled them into fists, rising up on her toes. She came dangerously close, but he was curious to see what action she so boldly came up with. The feeling of her lips on his mouth had not been an option he had considered.

_What have you done?_

The voice rang clear through her head, but it didn't stop her. Astarion, who she had expected to coil back with surprise, tightened his grasp, bending down to reinforce their kiss. He opened his mouth to hers, catching her breath. She sighed heavily, giving into the release of anger and feeling her body relax. He was afraid to let go, afraid she would pull away. But he had not initiated this. So his hands fell loose around her with the anticipation of her withdraw. The urge to push him was still there, and he could feel her hands lingering with doubt. But she did not tear herself from him. She stepped closer.

There wasn't another second of hesitancy, the moment he felt her hand over his chest, he knew his touch was permitted. His fingers stretched across the back of her as she grappled him. The doublet tightened as she pulled and pushed him as her mouth opened and closed, using her anger to fuel the kiss. He did not question it, either, only relishing in their moment of passion and wondering what could be done to further it. A hand found it's way to her neck, a finger to the back of her ear and caressing the side. The touch. Just the soft touch. His fingertip pressed into her skin. Followed by another. The feeling of his fingertips sliding down her neckline. The sensation sang through her body, reminding her of the thoughts she had buried. His hands crawling across her. It felt like the night he drank from her. The image caused her to tense and her grip tightened as the singing grew louder.

Astarion defied her rigidness, scooping her lower back into him, closer, capturing her into his embrace. The hand, the one with it's gentle touch, had suddenly changed, becoming aggressive and hungry and wanting. It stretched to the back of her hair, his fingers tangling into it's long waves. They curled, pulling her head backward as he leaned into her. It sent a jolt of pleasure down the rest of her body, causing a soft moan to escape. Her eyes flew open, suddenly aware of what was happening by the unintentional sound she had made. She shoved him away, wiping her mouth and glaring at him. He stood, a thumb to his bottom lip and his eyes awaiting her next move. There was no evidence of shock on his face. Not in the least. It made her feel sick. She let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head as she left the ruin.

"Well..." he rubbed his lip in thought. "... that _was_ certainly new..." 

* * *

As the birds began to sing their song of the new day, Ferelith had already woken. While she would have preferred to be alone that night, she also did not want to risk running into Astarion in the wood. Her place had been warm by the fire all night, brooding and cursing quietly under her breath. She had remained undisturbed, even when Astarion had first returned. He was relentless with his stare, however, and refused to give her a moment of peace. Even if he said nothing at all.

The look from him alone was all she needed for her insides to curdle with regret. Or so she assumed. There was also a slight flutter in her chest when her eyes met his, a hint of secrecy in the enjoyment of her impulsive actions sparking the fire that flushed across her face. She would eventually need to speak to him. Though Astarion was not patient enough to wait for that. She knew there was nothing more he wanted than to make her feel unconformable as soon as possible. And as she felt him approaching her as she packed her bag, she crossed her arms with a heavy and under prepared sigh.

"I hope you had a good hunt last night," she interrupted him just as his mouth opened to speak.

"I..." he looked at her curiously, "I did..."

"Good."

"I'm not sure if you wanted-"

"Shut up," she glowered, her voice dripping like venom. "Get your things. I need you."

"I knew you would," he grinned with enormous gratification.

Her composure held as long as it needed to, which was just enough to endure his gaze. The moment his back turned, her mind scattered into a thousand thoughts, some not even of her own voice. There would be a time for her to sort them out later. For now, she needed to keep her strength in appearance. 


	2. Tangled Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kiss was enough to send Ferelith into a frenzy. And she storms off away from the camp in order to collect herself. It is just her. Her thoughts. And her patron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that line between the kiss and the next morning? This where Ferelith's thoughts go. When she walked away.

The line between flustering anger and sheer embarrassment had blurred until the two created an uneasy feeling in the pit of Ferelith's stomach. It was an illness that spread, causing her mind to stammer over thoughts and her feet to carry to an unknown place. She was sure how far she had stomped away from camp. But she knew she was at the water's edge. And even the frigid mist within the fog that rolled off it was not enough to cool the heat on her face.

_What were you thinking you fool?_

"I... I don't know," she couldn't help but laugh, bringing her fingers to her lips.

She could still taste him. They were still wet. Swollen. Her face grew hotter. She wondered for a moment if she was blushing but dismissed the thought as Ferelith was not the blushing type. This heat spread down her body. She felt a warmth beneath her.

"No," her eyes widened. "No... no, no, no..."

_This is your own fault._

What had happened? What had she done? She thought back to recall the memory, to bring back the feelings to piece together her impulsive behavior. But all she could remember was the way his hands felt on her; clutching, squeezing, running through her hair. She wondered where else they would feel...

_Your desires..._

"Stop," she commanded, her voice rising. "I didn't want this."

_You did though... you've suppressed this feeling for too long. You should have dealt with him sooner._

"Killing him wasn't an option," she growled through gritted teeth.

_It passed through your mind. Several times. I've seen it. He's trespassed into your thoughts far too often for far too long. Of his own doing... and yours._

The heat had faded and thoughts began to flow clearly once again. She suddenly remembered why she had gotten so angry. Astarion had been a prodding nuisance since the day they met. Always reaching for her memories. Going through her things. Prying for answers. He had seen things she had not spoken of within years of time. Memories she would never had admitted willingly. And with those memories, he had known better... better than anyone she had become acquainted with. The pit in her stomach began to curdle again, bringing the hot flash streaking across her face.

"I haven't felt this way since..."

The way his eyes followed her. Not like prey, not for the sake of the hunt. They were always at a distance with a hint of cautious, but still so full of interest. It was the way he used to look at her. Those eyes made her believe he was undressing her thoughts, if only he could. Even when she thought he wasn't looking, he was always there minding her movements. And when eyes are locked, he always captures her attention. A damned smirk. A quick wink. A biting of his lip. A tap of the finger. Always something to let her know... he has her.

_Yes... you still remember it don't you, foolish child. I thought you learned this lesson already._

Just as before, Ferelith had toyed with the idea he never had her interest. Acting coy as if she was in control of her choices. As if she could be attracted to him and still walk away with a dismissive stance. Then again, her worst weakness was always her curiosity. The desire to strike him was all too thin against her need to feel his skin. She would grumble his name with frustration, but then moan it in her sleep at night.

_Need to know..._

She needed to know what his hands felt like up her skirt. What his breath felt like on her neck. What his lips tasted like. She needed to know what sort of satisfied grin he would give her at the sight of her pleasure. If he would whisper into her ear. If he would call her name. Ferelith assumed he was always eager to please. And the idea danced around her head many times at the thought of allowing it. She imagined he was very good with his hands. Those hands that were starving for her body. Hands like that belonged to a man who knew how make her feel things. Things that she secretly craved. Things that made her lose herself.

_That's what you want?_

When she's gone, there is no control. Thoughts of the book disappear. The voice in her head is silenced. The tadpole forgotten as it sits dormant. As long as she's lost in him, she wouldn't need to think. And for that moment, she can be free. Take out the truth of it all, despite it being based on sheer curiosity. Throw it away. She needed to hear the lies. Needed to hear whatever she wanted so she could completely submerse herself into the false feeling. To be intertwined with him feeding her a reality that would never exist in where she can be herself again. To take away her fear of the bonds committing to yet another thing.

_If you break this bond with me, you'll lose everything. Including yourself._

The voice was right, but that's why she was quite fond of believing the lies. The truth had never made her happy. It was the false hope that kept her going. The idea that one day she could toss the book into a pit of fire. That she could find a way to remain strong without the use of her patron. That she could go back to the bookshop and read until her heart is content. That she could have incredible sex with a man she barely knew without repercussions. That she could be with him without giving herself away.

_You contradict yourself._

Ferelith sank to the bank of the stream with a loud thud, stretching her back across the grass and smelling the air. The voice... was always right. It was what replaced her own conscious thoughts. It was now her voice of reason. And it was doing well to convince her to leave those stray thoughts of Astarion in the depths. To lose herself in him to take away the pain was only giving herself away in a different form. Though... the idea was still appealing. After all, it wasn't going to be easy to forget about the way he kissed her. Even as her patron sighed with disappointment from the side.

_Very well..._


End file.
